


More Than A Love

by Eirenei



Series: Scrapbook Jewels [22]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Naruto
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 11:12:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eirenei/pseuds/Eirenei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Return to the loved one in the winter... and warm memories. When they loved with a love... that was more than love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than A Love

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Nor do I own Naruto. This story is mine, though....
> 
> Shout Out: Merry Christmas, everybody /is exhausted/ This plotbunny hopped around persistently, and I just had to write it out. So... This is my gift to you, hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: AU – verse, as usual. This time, it's Itachi /Haru (Harry) pairing. It's LEMON shota - meaning, it's adult male/young boy love, with the boy being underage. Mentions of nudity and consensual sex scene. I'm warning you, and if you still want to read it, go on. Happy reading.

* * *

_"We loved with a love that was more than love."_

_Edgar Allan Poe_

* * *

The night was quiet- well, not quiet per se, but close to it, seeing how the snow was silently falling on the ground. Anyone with half their brains was holed in their homes, as the outside was cold, and with quickly approaching snowstorm , it was bound to be freezing cold tonight.

The silence was broken by small creaking sounds, as a man was trudging through the snow. He was clothed in a thick black coat, wide hood shading his face. He was carrying a sack on his back, as he quickly and efficiently walked across the snowed-in plains. Why would the man be out so late? Didn't he have a family, or at least a friend to be offered a shelter?  The man stopped briefly, as he looked at the horizon. _'Hn. It's getting darker,'_ He mused silently. A smile appeared on the pale lips, as he thought of his precious boy waiting for him at home, already anticipating the boy's worried fussing over him. A small smirk appeared on the lips as he imagine d the taste of that sweet mouth - like sweetest wild strawberries with a hint of cinnamon and cream.

He loved the boy; of that there was no doubt. Many would think that their love was an abomination of the real thing, what with the man being 20 years old and his precious angel only eight years - add that to the fact that he was the boy's father – the small saving grace being his adoption of the small boy – but still, their relationship was as unorthodox as one could get.

* * *

Haru bit his lip. The petite boy was worried. His _tousan_ promised him he'd be back by nightfall, but the snow began falling harder, announcing the oncoming snowstorm, and he couldn't help but worry. His _tousan_ was strong, he knew that – and not in the sense _of 'my-father-is-stronger-than-yours,'_ but in a ' _my-father-is-an- S-ranked-missing-nin'_ sense. He had seen his _tousan_ taken on the bad men easily, even if he had been outnumbered 12 to one, and the opponents were highly skilled ANBU. Yes, his _tousan_ was a killer. Personally, Haru thought his father was a survivor rather than a killer; as he didn't kill for fun of it, he did it to survive. The only valid rule was kill or be killed anyway – and survivors killed. Heck, even he, Haru, the boy as he was, killed people. Still, he worried. Tousan was his precious person, and he'd do anything if that meant to be with him.

To most of people, Haru's _tousan_ seemed scary. His red eyes with blades swirling in them could destroy the strongest of men into snivelling wrecks. His aura was one of danger and death and blood; and yet, he was so gentle with Haru, like a dove. To a casual onlooker, the pair of them would only show a picture of a dark, evil father and his gentle-willed son; even if _tousan_ eyed him evilly, with those scary red eyes, Haru was content, knowing that his tousan would _never_ hurt him.

True, Haru had been scared to death too, at first, those blood red eyes , impassive face, sharp, pointy things he only knew the man could hurt him with them if he chose so... but on some strange twist of fatem the man took kin in, took care of him, protected him and... _Loved him?_

He still remembered that day...

* * *

_/Flashback/_

"Ita- _tousan!_ Ita- _tousan!_ " The small, black-haired boy ran to his guardian, his green eyes sparkling with laughter. Black eyebrows quirking slightly, the cloaked man looked at his charge impassively, with only a hint of warmth in those cold eyes. The little boy was a balm for the man 's ravaged soul. True, he was a shinobi first, but that didn't mean he couldn't feel. Since that fateful night, he'd been only half alive a shell of a person without emotions. A murderer. But then, he encountered a small boy, with greenest eyes he had ever seen. They reminded him of precious gems he once saw the Daimyo's wife wearing; she called them emeralds. The boy had been so scared and alone - and before he knew it, he was helping the boy. He couldn't say what made him to help the boy. Was it the boy's starving, enunciated frame? His injuries? His deep green orbs, filled with loneliness and despair? His ethereal beauty – wait, beauty? Since when did he see his son like... _that?_

Belatedly, he felt the slight body collide with his, as Haru embraced him around his waist, snuggling into him. And suddenly, his body was on fire. Wide – eyed, he looked at the child, who was smiling at him - an innocent smile, so trustful and only for him. Haru didn't expect anything from him, didn't judge him - and for that, the man would be eternally grateful. Kneeling down, he hugged the child, relishing in the fragile warmth Haru shared with him. Haru laughed a free, cheerful laugh, that got the man's insides tingling. In a sudden bout of possessiveness, the man cupped the back of Haru's head. The child stopped laughing. Large, beautiful green eyes looked into ted ones, confused. "Ita – _tousan_?" The child inquired softly, blinking at the man's silence. And in the next moment, warm, soft lips covered his rosebud ones, in a fleeting caress, like butterfly's wings.

Haru gasped slightly and his tousan's mouth which was just hovering over his moist ones, returned. But this kiss... was different. He felt his tousan's tongue licking the seam of his lips to open - Haru emitted a taken – aback whimper as the slippery intruder mapped out the warm cavern behind his teeth –

Hesistantly, the child brought his own tongue into the play, arousing the man further. To him, Haru tasted like sunshine, wild strawberries and cinnamon, an innocent and yet heady mix that had him hooked on immediately. Moaning slightly, he embraced the child tighter, not wanting to let him go yet –

To Haru, his _tousan_ tasted like dark, bitter chocolate and mint with a hint of peaches thrown in. Gasping slightly, they separated. Those red eyes looked at him intently, warming his body in a scary, but exciting ways. Haru felt his cheeks flush. The man's eyes were spinning with those blades again, but Haru wasn't scared, even if tousan's look was almost too intense to bear.

" _T – Tousan?_ " He asked hesitantly, confused about the man's behaviour.

"You're mine, Haru. No one else's. Remember that. "

That smooth dark voice wrapped around Haru's mind like a warm blanket, but with a steely undertone in them, that Haru recognized as a... threat? Possessiveness? _Love?_

_/End Flashback/_

* * *

That day had marked a beginning of something new. Haru may have been young, but he knew his relationship with his tousan wasn't a common one. But how could be something that felt so good, so.. _right,_ be considered so wrong?

Looking through the window once more, he quickly shook himself out of his thoughts, and went to rekindle the fire. The little hut where they lived may be small, but it was enough room for the two of them and then some. It was cozy – looking, and giving off a feel of true home. There was one hearth, for warmth and where they cooked their food. On the wooden floor, there were laid some downy soft skins and rugs, and in one of the corners, there was a small, low-legged table with some scrolls neatly stacked on it. The pillows for sitting were a little worn out, but still in a good state, they were stacked against the wall at the moment. On the wall, there were some pictures, drawn with charcoal on cream – colored rice paper and some katanas and various other pointy, and potentially harmful things. Near the hearth, there was their little nest, made out of furs, cotton linen and warmth. Haru blushed as he remembered some of their... _adventures_ in that warmth.

Speaking of warmth... Haru blinked slowly, yawning cutely. Once more, he looked around the room, checking if everything was in order. That checked he allowed the tiredness sweep him ovr. Within minutes, he was snuggled in a makeshift bed, covered with thick, soft bearskin, drifting off into Morpeus' embrace.

* * *

It was dark, when the door opened, and the man finally came home. The fire was still going strong, he noted, and on the small table, there was food – Haru obviously waited on him, the man smiled at the thought. Laying down his sack, he closed the door and quickly shed the heavy cloak. Next thing that was discarded, were his boots, now, his body and face were finally revealed.

He was tall, but not overly so. His body was slender, and yet muscled as he moved, the watched would be reminded of a great predator – his movements were smooth and swift, almost unnaturally graceful. Dark hair looked silkily smooth as it glinted in the firelight with healthy sheen. His attire was simple – black pants and black turtleneck with a bastardized version of a Jounin armour over it; it was also coloured black.

Removing the armour, he seemed like some sort of a slender shadow. His skin was pale, but not unhealthily so. The face was delicate, yet masculine; if the man had wanted so, he'd be a heartthrob with his dangerous beauty. Dark eyebrows, long, dark laskes and slightly sunken eyes – those eyes, who gave their owner's enemy chill by looking at them – were now black, like void. This man... was predator.

And yet, those merciless, chillingly black orbs softened as the man looked at the snoozing child. Smiling softly, he quickly sneaked under the covers, careful not to rouse his precious little one. To him, Haru was beautiful. The boy only mumbled something indecipherable, before snuggling into the solid body lying near his. The man's mouth kissed the child's wild hair affectionately, and Haru nuzzled into the dark sweater, inhaling the scents of winter and forest with underlying hint of steel. Green eyes blinked open slowly. "I-Ita- _tousan_?" The boy yawned out sleepily.

Chuckling slightly, the man tightened his embrace for a moment. "Who else, Haru- _koi_?" The velvety voice murmured into small, delicate ear. He resisted – he tried to, but Kami, those lips were so perfect – and why not indulge? Small peck on those velvety tempting lips, and soon, he tasted the child.

Their duel of tongues was lazy, as both were too tired to attempt something more. "Ita – tousan?" the child questioned softly. His guardian smiled at him gently, dark eyes warm. "Sleep, Haru, I'll be there when you wake up." Haru nodded sleepily as he nuzzled back into his favourite pillow, already falling into the comforting darkness.

* * *

Haru was dreaming. This time, as many others before, he had no nightmares. No scary green light – he dreamed about warmth and sun and wind and instead of high – pitched evil cackling that made his ears hurt, he listened to his tousan's voice. Smooth, silky and most of all, safe. Swinging between the dream world and consciousness, he felt something warm nuzzle into his neck, and he smiled at the butterfly kisses trailing from his neck to shoulders teasingly.

Drowsily, he allowed his yukata to be shed, exposing his tender skin to the air. Mewling, he arched into those smooth hands that played wickedly with his young body, as a small bal of intense warmth was beginning to ignite in his belly

Slowly, those hands removed his hakama too, and he arched into that strong, warm body behind him. he shivered as his thighs were caressed with feather-like touches that never strayed to the centre of his need, but teased him, taunted him with their promise...

 _"Tousan..."_ He complained breathlessly, his body arching into the caresses, his young voice hitching helplessly. A low chuckle answered him, and then, he was being laid on the downy soft fur, the strong body hovering over him, and his eyes finally opened.

* * *

Green eyes blinked up at him, so trusting and innocent and wanting, that his breath hitched. The boy was exquisite, lair in front of him like some innocent sacrifice to his darkest desires, that smooth, almost glowing skin beckoning him to touch, to taste to possess and to never let him go. Not that he would want to; Haru was his salvation and his sanctuary. No matter how many times he had claimed the child as his own, his desire wasn't diminished, not by the slightest.

Small hands tugged at his sweater hesitantly. "I-Ita-" The child whined, breathless with impatience. The man chuckled slightly, but obeyed the unspoken plea. Black gave the way to milky white, smooth skin that was sculpted with muscles. Green eyes widened with awe. _"Tousan..."_ the child breathed out in wonder. Pale lips quirked in a small smile. He enjoyed the child watching him undress. Only his son, no one else, made him so wanted, so carefree, so strong. The last garment was being tossed away and the man was completely naked. "Wow.." the small exclamation of awe came out of those rosebud pink lips he so longed to claim. "You are so pretty, _tousan_ ," Dark, cruel eyes were warm with amusement. "And you are beautiful." The silky murmur made the child blush. "Ah, _tousan_! Don't be mean!" the boy pouted at him. the man chuckled. "But you are, " He teased his little treasure as he moved, and the next thing Haru felt was hot mouth claiming his tender lips.

The kiss was warm and soft, but it quickly escalated to fiery-with-passion variant. The man groaned, as the child timidly embraced him around the neck. His shy little Haru... the child whimpered slightly as his little legs were spread apart, his body trembling with anticipation. Skin against skin... ant there were tousan's fingers, in that dirty little place – Haru still blushed at the mention of it. How could tousan enjoy something so.-. dirty? The boy's head was tossed back as he mewled with the force of pleasure streaking down his spine. And then – and then – tousan put his cock in him, his big,. Strong body shuddering and then, they were racing to the invisible finish line of pleasure and _oh_ –

His little stomach knotted and a fiery ball of ecstasy and agony made him arch sharply against his tousan the man's muscles stiffening, lust a little more, just –

" _ITACHI!"_ \- As he exploded with he man's name on his lips.

* * *

Itachi watched the sleeping child with a small smile on his face. The sweat was sticking to his skin uncomfortably, cooling his heated body down some, as he cradled the still-out-of-conscious form of his son to himself gently.

It was already a dawn, although a bleak one, what with all of the now outside. He caressed the sweaty strand of the boy's hair away from the adorable face, running his fingers throught he unruly mane.

Yes, Itachi Uchiha had a fascination with Haru's hair. Haru's hair was thick and soft, like the softest fur, and yet, it was so unruly. It was black – not the pitch black of itachi's own hair, but it had the faintest reddish glimmer if somenone would look correctly.  And Itachi had.

But that wasn't the only one thing Itachi adored about Haru.

It was the whole package - the boy's skin, smiles, the colour of his eyes, that beautiful laughter of his, and how he trusted Itachi unconditionally; all those and more were his Haru. Although sometimes, Itachi did wonder whether Haru was really a child. There were moments Haru seemed to be far too old for his age of six years, his eyes far too pained and too wise - and then, the moment would pass, and his Haru would laugh or smile again. But come what may, Itachi swore to himself, he would be here for Haru.

Because Haru was his.

_**/The End/Owari/** _

 


End file.
